


for you, and the tears you could not shed

by luxettenebrae



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: ...was going to make the title latin but, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Drabble, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Teasing, emphasis on comfort!!!, google translate failed me, i know the tags are major angst but, i'm NOT bashing anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxettenebrae/pseuds/luxettenebrae
Summary: When does it become too much to bear?When can we finally admit to the wounds we carry?Let's not wait until it's too late.It's okay to say it's painful. It's okay to cry. It's okay to not be okay.Such simple words, you say—and yet, rarely taken simply for what they are.———————————————After a particularly tense moment of Mammon being teased, you follow him to his room and confront him.
Relationships: Main Character & Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 241





	for you, and the tears you could not shed

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while back as a way to vent and explore Mammon. I'll put this as something for #ObeyMeMax, Day 7.  
> To be clear, I'm not writing this to bash any characters, and I know that the brothers care about Mammon (despite all appearances at times). And, to be fair, I've even included Leviathan, my favorite, as is accurate in canon. Although, I do admit that their words here are a tinge harsher than in canon (at least, that's how it feels to me).  
> While intent does matter, the consequences of someone's actions and words are far more important and sometimes, deadly. Someone who's hurting often won't care about the intent of someone who hurt them because, in the end, they were hurt, and that is a real, impactful consequence. People won't always remember what you did, but they will remember how you made them feel.  
> I love all the characters in Obey Me, and the dynamic between the brothers and Mammon is fun, but I do wish sometimes that they could be a bit nicer or that we could have more assurance (visible, clear proof) that they aren't being completely sincere with their remarks when teasing him.

You walked over to the dining table with a platter of snacks to share with the brothers; they gathered for a break from schoolwork, jobs, and other responsibilities this afternoon. Setting it down carefully, you smiled and took a seat. 

“So, what’d I miss while I was grabbing the snacks?” 

Beel was busy stuffing his mouth with food, so Belphie took it upon himself to answer you. On the other side of the table, the others were still finishing up a conversation. 

“Oh, nothing much,” Belphie shrugged. “Just Mammon being an idiot again.” 

Mammon whirled around in his seat upon hearing his name mentioned with an indignant expression. 

“Hey! I heard that, you know. What gives?” 

You gave him an uncomfortable smile and rubbed the back of your neck.

“I’m sure Belphie was just joking. I was asking about what I missed while I was gone.” 

“I wasn’t joking, though?” Belphie, seemingly bored, examined his nails. “It’s true, anyway.” 

Mammon stared at Belphie, his features stony and impenetrable. 

“Fine. What did I do this time, huh?” He averted his gaze, sending it to the corner of the room. “Bet you can’t even answer that.” 

Levi lifted his head from his D.D.D., seeming to sense the tense atmosphere. But instead of dispersing it as you hoped, his words were thrown out carelessly and unexpectedly stung, even more so than usual. 

“Does he have to answer that? You’re Mammon, lolol. You’re always like this. It’s not always something you did; it’s just what you are.” 

Mammon turned and looked at Levi, blinking. Then, he sighed. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. It’s always me. It’s always ‘cause I’m dumb or whatever. I’m your older brother, you know. I’m only younger than Lucifer. What’s with the difference in treatment?” 

Levi looked at Mammon for a moment before opening his mouth to respond, but Mammon put up a hand as he stood. 

“Forget it. I don’t need you to answer that. I know what you’ll say, anyhow.” 

You watched as Mammon pushed his chair in roughly and stalked away. His retreating, single figure was not unfamiliar to you, but today, the sight of his back and drooping shoulders receding from view seemed particularly lonely. The exchange of words today had struck somewhere a little tender, or perhaps, the same place that previously suffered such remarks had worn down a little too much. 

“Don’t mind him,” Satan interrupted your thoughts. “Are you free toni- huh? Where are you going?” 

You had risen to your feet and pushed in your chair as well. The leaden weight of the chair resisted your advances. Had it always been this heavy? 

“Sorry, I’m going to get going. I’ll see you all later.” 

You offered a quick smile before briskly walking away, following in Mammon’s footsteps. 

In the dining room, the brothers looked at each other, exchanging glances. 

“...Great. I guess we should just all get going, too,” Belphie heaved a sigh. “There’s no reason for me to stick around now that they’ve left.” 

Everyone supposedly felt the same way, since the dining room was soon empty and quiet. 

* * *

You knocked on the door to Mammon’s door with bated breath. 

“Who is it?” his voice was guarded and had an edge to it. 

“It’s me,” you called. “Can I come in?”

The door swung open, and Mammon looked you up and down quickly before pulling you inside. 

“Shoulda known it’d be you. No one else would come to my room, anyway.” He smiled as he turned away, but it was curdled with bitterness and hardly even a smile, so unlike his usual self. 

You followed him further into his room, and the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. You studied him and gently placed your hand over his, which was casually resting on the bed. 

“Mammon, are you okay?” 

He laughed scornfully. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m fine. It’s not like this is any different from the way it always is. Or maybe the way I’ve always been.” He cast his gaze forward, though not seeming to fixate on anything particular. “What is there to be not okay about, anyway?” 

You bit your lip and watched his unfaltering cobalt eyes. They possessed so much more depth than they appeared to, and they frequently transformed, like the reddening leaves of fall from the lush green of summer. They were the clear, blue diamond lakes on a day of generous, showering, golden sunlight; they were the expansive pool of sky above, and they were the glimmer of a sapphire—perhaps yet unpolished, but raw and unmistakably priceless. It was a pity that you were the only one who was able to ascertain such worth in those eyes, ascertain and honestly express to him that worth. It wasn't hard to see. All one had to do was take a second look, a closer look—but you supposed that first, one had to have a heart and mind open to more than their current outlook. 

With a thick, gloomy heaviness residing within you, you wondered if you could really be of any comfort to him. But you were all you could offer. 

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, Mammon.” You reached up and smoothed down a piece of his hair, and he bristled at your touch before relaxing and turning to look at you, startled. Now you had his attention if you didn’t before. “It must have been painful.” 

For a second, you saw his expression waver—a flash of shock, a hint of yearning, a shadow of sorrow—but it was gone again before you could observe more closely. He fixed his features in place once again; everything smoothed over the way you smoothed down his hair. 

“It’s nothin’. I’m used to it.” He chuckled in a self-deprecating manner. “And sometimes they’re right. It doesn’t matter.” 

A strange sensation coursed through you from the core outward; it was a feeling like breaking, a feeling like wringing, a feeling like screaming, and something intensely abstract and yet unmistakably familiar. You rose from the bed and let go of his hand, only to kneel in front of him. You clasped both of his hands in yours as you looked up at him. The closest you could come to defining the feeling that overtook you was calling it desperation. You were desperate. Desperate for him to know. Desperate for him to understand. Desperate for him to acknowledge. 

“It does matter, Mammon. You matter. Don’t say that it doesn’t matter, okay?” You stared up at him, praying for him to understand, your chest unbearably tight. “What doesn’t matter is if you’re used to it or if you think they’re right. They’re not right, and painful things won’t stop being painful just because they happen repeatedly.” 

You weren't sure what kind of expression he was making now since your entire world had blurred with your tears, each of which fell continuously, one by one without waiting their turn; they were the countless shooting stars crowding the night sky, the expanse of your weary face. You didn’t know if you were crying out of frustration or out of grief for all that he’d been reduced to after the pain inflicted upon him. Maybe it was both. Or maybe, it was neither. 

“Hey, what’re you cryin’ for...? Don’t cry,” he said, his voice soft. “You’re gonna make me cry, too.” 

You let go of his hands, your hands trembling as you brought them to your face and brushed away your tears. More came when the previous ones had left, though, so it was hardly of any use. 

“I’m crying for you, Mammon. Because you can’t cry.” 

So that was why. Sometimes the truth couldn’t even be known until spoken into existence. 

Mammon reached over and planted his hands on your shoulders, although his hands were shaking and more than hesitant, like he should not touch you but was doing so anyway. 

“Hey, don’t say it like that… Come on, stand up. Stop kneelin’ there, already…” His voice had become dyed with the colors of silent tears, too, and he pulled you to your feet, also standing up himself. Both of you were unsteady, and the rest of the world had vanished into the tears of the moment. 

You glanced up at him and then wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your embrace. 

“If it’s painful, don’t be ashamed to say so. Pain is pain. You have the right to feel and express it.” Your voice was weak and wobbled, but it was enough to tell him what you wanted to. “You’re the same lovely Mammon, even when you’re in pain. It doesn’t make you any less of yourself to be in pain or show that you’re in pain.” 

His hand splayed across your back as he held you in return. The warmth of his body was unexpectedly and extraordinarily comforting. You could feel the shakiness inside you receding, like the tide going out at the shore. 

“...You’re the only one who’s ever called me lovely, you know.” Slight wetness on your back. It was a cathartic feeling to have it there. “You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” 

You shook your head firmly. 

“I’m not the strange one. Everyone else is strange.” 

Mammon laughed, though the sound was subdued; an odd sound bearing little resemblance to a laugh. 

“Of course you would say that.” 

You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. You rubbed his back softly, and a moment came to be and not. 

“...I’ll ask you again,” you whisper. “It was painful, wasn’t it?” 

There was a pregnant pause. 

“...It was painful,” he choked out. You heard a muffled sob as his chest heaved with broken, labored breaths. “It hurt…” 

You said nothing and continued to hold him as he sobbed in restrained spurts, embracing him and petting his back with as much tenderness as you could muster. Could he feel all the love and warmth you wanted to give him? 

When he regained enough control over himself once again, you could feel him petting you on the head gently. Maybe he did feel all that you hoped he would receive from you. It was only the first step. You had boundless love to give to him, the one who had unwittingly won all your affections. He was priceless, and so all that you gave him had to match up to such worth, even if such a deed was nigh impossible. 

**Author's Note:**

> ...This is where my spiel usually goes. I'm a little preoccupied right now, though, so...  
> Talk to me @luxexhomines on Twitter or Tumblr! You're always welcome to chat with me. It doesn't have to be about fandom-related topics or creative pursuits. I'll be perfectly happy to talk to you about most anything!  
> In the future, I'd like to take writing/art trades, but for now, I don't have the capacity for such things. I still have many other projects and responsibilities to take care of.  
> Thank you if you've made it this far! I should learn to write shorter notes. Take care and stay safe!


End file.
